Shore Leave, Undergarments, & Estranged Chefs
by divadarling
Summary: What do you get when you mix the above with a dash of Ellen Tigh? Hopefully some fun A/R fluff amidst the depression of Season 4…Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Aside from fun fluffy A/R romance, I also wanted to use this story to explain what Bill meant by "other times" in A Day in the Life, and why Roslin hates Baltar on such a personal level. Hope you like!

Disclaimer: By the way, I don't own 'em...

--

Despite the drizzling rain tapping softly on the roof of green fabric, the breeze blowing just outside Laura's tent was pleasa

Despite the drizzling rain tapping softly on the roof of green fabric, the breeze blowing just outside Laura's tent was pleasantly warm. Laura sat at the wobbly desk inside her makeshift home, grading papers from last week's homework assignment. The fleet had been on New Caprica for nearly three months and only last week had Laura finally managed to implement some sort of stable routine for her students.

The breeze made its way inside her tent, stirring some of the papers and bring with it the sent of pine and wet muddy ground. Laura set her pen down and took off her glasses. With eyes closed she inhaled the fresh air and felt a pang of deep gratitude at the escape from the four walls of Colonial One. The joy was short lived, as mind wandered to the ship she once called home and the new resident who defiled her once scared office.

There were a number of unusual things that came along with settlement on New Caprica, and most where still a bit of a shock for Laura even with two months time to grow accustom. First, there was the smell of fresh air, looking up into the sky and seeing clouds or stars, the gratitude she hated herself for feeling because the planet gave her a chance at a new life. The joy she found in grading papers and hanging up the mantle of leader was matched equally by the guilt and anger she felt in having to do so.

The flap of her tent flew open without preamble and Ellen Tigh marched in as if she owned Laura's particular plot of barren living space.

"You will never believe what just happened. I was in the market and I overheard Tyrol talking to Felix Gaeta. It seems the President has decided to channel all resources into rebuilding our cities instead of getting some decent food production underway. You were right! The idiot is trying to walk before he can crawl. Of course, that glorified farmer whats-her-name is throwing a fit."

If Ellen noticed she had interrupted Laura's train of thought she paid no heed and blurted out her news with flair. This was the second thing Laura had a difficult time adjusting to. For some reason, Ellen Tigh had practically attached herself to Laura's ass.

Out of all the people in the fleet, except maybe Baltar, Ellen was the last person on the face of the planet Laura would have picked to befriend. Though Laura would hardly call them friends now, for whatever reason, Ellen had singled out Laura and these abrupt and unwelcome intrusions had become common place.

"Living in his ivory tower has made him blind to what's happening out here," Laura replied. She picked up her pen and glasses and went back to grading the papers, hoping the action would shorten Ellen's stay. With typical impertinence Ellen poured herself a glass of tea from the pot sitting on the kitchen table and made herself comfortable in one of the two plush chairs Laura owned.

"Don't you mean your ivory tower?" Ellen asked. For the sake of not prolonging the conversation or turning it hostile Laura ignored Ellen's dig. Silence of any kind seemed to get to Ellen so Laura was only granted a few seconds of concentration before Ellen continued.

"Well, Baltar is a frakking idiot and he's going to have a riot on his hands. That's what Saul keeps saying. No doubt Saul will probably help start it." Ellen chuckled to herself.

With a heavy sigh Laura put down her pen and looked over to the occupied chair. It would be easy enough to usher Ellen out of her home and treat her poorly enough to ensure she never returned, but, as much as she hated to admit it, Laura was lonely. Billy was gone. Elosha was gone. Most of her extended family died on Caprica long ago. The Admiral was still on Galactica and his son was commanding Pegasus. The two men were her only real friends among the fleet. This meant company, if even it was Ellen, was welcome.

"I'm sure Baltar is having a difficult enough time as it is, without Saul starting anything." Laura looked over her glasses as she spoke. Ellen chortled.

"Yeah, right. You don't fool me. You'd like to see him ten feet under as much as Saul. I don't know why Bill doesn't come down here and straighten things out, instead of hiding up there on his little ship."

Laura neatly folded her hands into her lap.

"Is there something you wanted, Ellen?"

The wife of the recently retired XO stood up and walked over to Laura's desk. With a smile of sickening pleasure on her face, Ellen set the chipped white cup on the papers.

"Just to invite you over for dinner the day after tomorrow."

Laura forced a polite smile back and reached for her pen. She had time enough to grade her paper but sometimes, most of the time, Ellen got on her nerves.

"Thank you, no. I've got school work piling up. Maybe next week." Laura moved Ellen's cup aside and slide the stack of papers in front of her, hoping Ellen would finally take the hint.

"Okay." Ellen's tone was defeated, yet mischievous. "But Bill was going to be there to tie up some lose ends with Saul… I thought we could sneak in a quick dinner."

The mere mention of Bill's name had never been enough to cause Laura's heart to beat forcibly in her chest. However, at the chance of seeing him again, the first time since the--she felt the drafts of air grow warmer--ground breaking was a different matter. Laura forced herself to calm down. She clenched her teeth at the way Ellen had purposefully set her up to look eager to see Bill, er…damnit, the Admiral again.

"Oh, he has shore leave?" She tried to sound casual, and keep the irritation out of her voice at having not been informed by the man himself.

"No, it's not really shore leave. I guess Bill needs some help sorting out some sort of hell-if-I-know mess aboard Galactica. It's a working dinner, but I'm sure you could persuade Bill away from business for a few minutes, don't you?" The smugness on Ellen's face was enough to make Laura chafe.

"What exactly does that mean?" Laura sent Ellen a sharp stare and straightened behind the desk. Ellen threw her hands up in the air and let them land on her chest as she laughed.

"Laura, Laura, Laura. Fine, I'll play along." Ellen changed her stance and her face became serious as she mockingly continued. "You could discuss the current state of the fleet with the Admiral, among other important political issues, blah, blah, blah. I suggest you take advantage."

"Alright. I'll be there," Laura replied, acting as though Ellen's professional reasons where the cause. When Ellen did not respond Laura looked up to find her shaking her head.

"You are pining, darling. Lords know I won't let the two of you discuss business all night." With a wink Ellen finally departed the tent.

Which lead Laura to the third thing she had a hard time adjusting to on New Caprica. Seeing Bill or not seeing Bill caused her equal grief, especially after the night under the stars. Was she reading too much into that particular encounter? She brushed the thought aside with the stack of papers she had finished grading.

--

Bill desperately fought the urge to lower his head and shut his eyes. He worked an extra shift on Galactica before hitching a ride down to the planet, and the never ending tedium of the political battle before him was like a soft lullaby.

One glance around the room told him Baltar was just as bored, though he had no right to be. Dr. Trista Keller was monologuing quiet passionately about the need for more funding for the agricultural and bioengineering departments of the government.

He knew his attention was really slipping, when the slight tilt of Dr. Keller's young head to one side reminded him distinctly of the former president. Blue eyes wandered toward the small window of Colonial One. Outside the grey tents cast fragile shadows over the rocky wet ground. Bill could barely make out tiny dots moving along the ground, and he wondered if she was one of them.

The Admiral was not accustomed to these flights of fancy nor did he often allow himself to indulge in reminiscing. For one, the reminiscing was always in tandem with an intangible yet unmistakable pang of guilt and depression. He could not put his finger on the exact cause of such feelings, nor did he want to.

"Don't you agree, Admiral?"

Adama focused his eyes on those in the room. Baltar was glaring at him knowingly, all other eyes watched him expectantly, except for Dr. Keller. She was standing with her arms folded and shoulders ridged her attention solely on Baltar. Sitting in Laura's big plush chair under the surprisingly solid stare of Dr. Keller, made Baltar shrink even more in Adama's eyes.

"The growing season is almost over. Much as I hate to side with the president," Bill ignored the smirk on Baltar's face, "ensuring our people have solid housing for the rough winter ahead should be our first priority."

Keller turned her head sharply. Adama knew she was reluctant to give up her fight and perhaps because other passionate political leaders had made him more aware, he spoke softly to her.

"You are welcome to whatever resources you can use from Galactica and Pegasus. If this where the start of the growing season I would agree with you."

Dr. Keller looked even more upset than she had a few minutes ago.

"Fine. Thank you, Admiral. Mr. President." Keller turned and stalked out of the room, her gangly red-headed assistant close on her heels. Adama got to his feet, not wanting to prolong his time with the President. He had a meeting with Saul in an hour, but he wanted enough time to see an old friend before heading to the Tigh's home.

"Admiral? Where are you going?" Baltar's high pitched tone brought out the worst in Adama's temper.

"I have a meeting with Colonel Tigh."

Baltar ran a hand through his greasy hair and shook his head.

"Mr. Gaeta is ready to go over the daily log from Galactica with you."

Bill clenched his teeth, knowing full well the reason Baltar was trying to prolong the meeting. He was afraid. The fear was plain, raging like a forest fire behind those small dark rimmed glasses. For all his cowardice and eccentricity, Gaius Baltar was no fool. Adama could see the President was acutely aware of how simple it would be for the Admiral and the former president to snap the single strand by which he held onto power. If at any point Bill had considered doing so, he remembered the day ages ago, when he convinced his president not to steal the election. He was a patriot. Some things would never change.

So, with a heavy sigh Bill sat back down. Baltar disappeared behind a curtain and Gaeta showed up with a large stack of paperwork. Adama only thought about looking back out the window.

--

From the nervous giggles that randomly escaped her throughout the day, Laura wondered if Tory or any number of her students noticed her particularly good mood. Children were much more intuitive than most people gave them credit for, and Laura knew this.

Laura straightened after leaning over a difficult math problem. Most of the students had their attention focused on the paper in front of them, but there was a buzz about the room, and Laura guessed her giggles had sparked it.

Not until Laura stepped back into the classroom did she realize how much she missed it. The power-trip aspect of teaching never held much appeal for her but, now that she was no longer president, she found a deep satisfaction in her singular control of the education of her students.

The day sped by as her excitement for dinner got the better of her. Tory left the classroom after a brief update on the state of the workers union, giving Laura the opportunity to collect her thoughts and the worksheets at each desk. With a smile to herself as she pondered what she might wear to the Tighs, she felt the shadow of a person in the doorway. When she lifted her eyes, the last person she ever expected to see in her natural life appeared before her.

The pinched nose, sever glasses and straight brown hair of Dr. Trista Keller's emotionless visage greeted her like a slap in the face.

"Madame President."

The words surprised Laura so much she ducked her head and pretended to be reaching for a paper in order to avoid appearing as if she was stumbling over her own feet.

"Dr. Keller." Roslin returned the greeting in the same ice-laced tone Trista used, though Laura could not help a tiny smile. "I'm the former president."

Trista briskly walked in a straight line across the room and surveyed the surrounds like a professional architect on the job.

"I will never call that thing we have now president." Trista did not look at Laura when she spoke.

There was only a split second of silence, which Laura hoped to break by inquiring about the emotional state of Trista, but the woman spoke first.

"The reason I'm here is to ask your opinion about the bio-engineering project put on hold in favor of building construction. The Admiral has taken Baltar's side, and I think you could persuade him otherwise." Trista was direct and to the point, just as she had always been.

Laura was baffled by Trista's request for more than a few reasons. From her tone, Laura could not derive any undertone of irony or petty implications. Life had been hard on everyone. Hard lessons had been learned. Maybe Trista had learned forgiveness. Inwardly, Laura shook her head at the thought.

"I agree with the Admiral. If we are going to make a go of this, I think the first thing we need to do is ensure our people can make it through the winter. We have next year to—"

"Save it," Trista interrupted harshly, "You and I both know the cylons are coming back. The food reserves as they are won't last much longer with the fleet traveling again. Contamination is more than likely with the poor storage conditions, and I want some fresh fruit and vegetables when we resume our journey to Earth."

Laura slowly put down the papers she had been hugging to her chest and then folded her arms. She licked her lips and narrowed her eyes and she tried to understand exactly where she stood in her relationship with this stranger from the past.

"What exactly makes you think the cylons will come back?" Laura thought the question was legitimate, and with the way Trista barged in Laura was reluctant to tell her anything.

"You just want to hear me say it." For the first time Trista's lips hinted at a smile. Laura waited, unaffected by the slight break in Trista's stoic exterior. "You know I've always been the religious one. I got that from my mother. I know the cylons will be back, because you are the dying leader. Your cancer is in remission, but it won't be forever. The cylons will be back. You will take us to Earth, and I want some creature comforts on the way there."

"That's funny. I thought you hated me." Laura said the words without apology or regret. It was a simple fact, and both of them knew it. Trista unfolded her arms and stepped forward, hesitating to speak for only a brief second.

"I don't hate you. I've never hated you."

Laura could not stop the bitter laugh that splurged into the air. At the look of hurt on Trista's face Laura felt a bit guilty in her reaction.

"I would talk to the Admiral, but Baltar makes sure we never see each other. He's afraid of what we might do."

Laura smirked and felt a chill travel down her spine. How she ever let Bill talk her into giving up the presidency to that traitor she would never know.

"To be honest I don't think Baltar gives it that much thought. He's out only to please himself. The Admiral is the one keeping the fleet together. He has a lot of pull. If you could just meet with him, try to convince him to change Baltar's mind—"

Laura held up a hand.

"I'll do what I can…"

"Thank you." Trista said and was about to leave.

"…if," Laura added slowly. She took a deep breath, and hoped she would not regret her next words. "I want to know about the girls. Will you come by, and tell me what I missed? I heard they were on Caprica with Max when the attack happened and—"

"Don't. Just don't." Trista turned and took a few pained steps to the door. She lifted her chin and turned briefly to face Laura.

"You always did know how to bargain. Probably why Richard…"

Laura felt her face drop about the same time that Trista's did.

"It's a deal."

Laura sighed heavily when the woman was gone. The night had not even begun and already Laura had been on an emotional roller coaster ride. She pondered briefly telling Bill about the encounter with Trista but decided it was too complicated a subject to go into with the little time they would have.

She finished collecting the last of the papers, and the menial task actually did some good in helping her calm her nerves after the encounter. It had literally been almost seven years since Laura last saw Trista. Laura hated people who tried to re-enter her life after long absences, but, somehow, she always let them.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for reading and all the reviews! You know I love 'em!_

--

Before he left Colonial One for the dismal muddy streets of New Caprica, Bill Adama glanced at the clock. He only had five minutes before he was expected at his meeting with Tigh. Even if the Admiral darted through the market place straight for Tigh's, he still would have been late. Finding himself on the other end of town, and rapidly approaching the former president's tent, Bill was quite surprised the guilty rain cloud above him had not sent droplets down from the heavens.

He smiled. The smile brought on the first pang of guilt, but he brushed it aside. He would only stay for a few minutes, he assured himself as his mud covered boots made prints in the wet ground. Only a few scared minutes. He just wanted to see her; see how she was, if she was enjoying teaching, if she was keeping up on the political movements within the fleet, if she… He did not dare finish his train of thought.

Beyond the open recreation area Bill could make out the green fabric of the place of his destination. Only once had he ever been to her tent; the night of the ground breaking, which they had spent under the stars just outside her new home. Before he reached the entrance he stopped. A sudden urge to brush off his uniform and look in the mirror over took him. A stranger passing by lifted an eyebrow as he said a polite hello.

The Admiral responded with a nod, and probably looked guiltier than he had reason too. With a refreshing inhale Bill stepped to the door and faced on obstacle that nearly made him turn around. The silver zipper the thick fabric was closed, and it wasn't like he could ring the doorbell.

A dozen questions rang through his mind with pounding force. Should he take the chance, unzip the canvas and barge in on her? Did she like surprises? What if she was changing clothes, and he walked in on her half naked? What if she had found a boyfriend and they were in a passionate embrace? What if she was hosting an important union meeting and there were dozens of people in there with her?

Bill shook his head, as if the questions where droplets of water and he was flinging them off. He leaned closer, with his ear nearly touching the fabric. He heard no sounds of voices or love making (the latter was a bigger relief than the former). Deciding that bursting in on her if she was half naked would be a forgivable offence; Bill bent down and unzipped the entrance.

He stepped inside lightly and his eyes darted around the tidy apartment. To the right was a small kitchen area with a table and mini-refrigerator. To the right was a set of tattered chairs, table with a reading lamp and a desk with papers in neat piles. Beyond the desk was the bedroom area.

"Laura?" Even the sound of her name made life a little more real to him. He had not spoken it since the last time he had seen her. Suddenly, the wish to see her became a need. Only for a few minutes; only to hear her voice, to ask her advice, to see her smile. Yes, that is what Bill needed, to see her smile. It put him at ease, even when her smile carried the weight of a thousand deaths or the sadness of a doomed civilization.

Bill walked deeper into the domain, stopping to look at the book she was currently reading. He said the title out loud to himself.

"Blood Runs At Midnight." He let out a sigh of amusement at the corny title and moved toward one of the grey chairs. No doubt by now Tigh was pacing the floor and cursing up a storm. After a moment of hesitation, Bill sat down. Waiting a few minutes couldn't hurt anything. The Raptor assigned with escorting the Admiral back to Galactica was not due to leave until 2200 hours, which gave him at least three hours to meet with Tigh.

The Admiral sat with ears keen to hear the return of the resident of New Caprica he needed to see. Ten minutes became twenty, and twenty became forty. Where could she be? Maybe she was at a meeting, or with a boyfriend… Bill stood up and paced the room. The longer he waiting the harder Saul would be to deal with later. He finally glanced at the clock on the table he had specifically been avoiding. More than a full hour had passed.

With heavy steps Bill walked to the desk and found a pencil and a blank piece of paper. He bent to write something, but the words would not come. Somehow, writing her first name on paper seemed to demean its importance. He sat the pencil down.

On his way back to the door he noticed a jacket hanging on a makeshift coat rack. In a moment of weakness Bill pulled the coat off the rack and pressed the collar of it to his nose. He could make out the faintest sent of her hair. The smell was not as rewarding as the sight of her smile, but it would have to last him until his next shore leave. He hung the coat back the way it was, and left the tent.

By the time he crossed down the wind had died and the evening was unusually warm, at least, that is what he assumed from all the rumors he had heard about New Caprica's notoriously cold weather. The Admiral was more than two hours late, and he knew he would get a thorough tongue lashing from his former XO. As he approached Saul's tent he noticed the flap was open and a warm yellow light was spilling into the outside.

The shriek of Ellen's voice filled his ears and his mood turned even more sullen. Ellen Tigh was not the woman he wanted to see tonight. Before he made his entrance, he heard a burst of mixed laughter. Saul's laugh was there, and Ellen's and someone else. He took another step closer. The laugh was unmistakably Laura's. Bill did not know whether to be overcome with gratitude he would see her after all, or if he should throw himself out the airlock for being such an idiot and wasting his time in order to see her. She was a hundred FTL jumps ahead of him in planning their reunion.

With a deep breath to release the anger he felt at his stupid actions, he stepped into the entrance.

--

Two months, seventeen days and nine hours…roughly. That's how long it had been since Laura had seen the Admiral. She knew because she had to keep track of the days in the school year, and she was an expert in time management. At least, that is what she told herself.

"Bill, where the frak have you been?" Saul growled in a familiarly gruff way.

"We finally decided to eat without you," Ellen added, her lower lip stuck out in a pout.

Laura paid little attention to them, as her eyes where currently engaged in soaking up every last inch of the Admiral's visage. He hadn't changed much. The mustache was still there, the uniform she had seen him wear everyday, and the golden band around his finger. But, there was something different. He was low. She could see it in the way he walked into the room and the way his tired eyes sought hers. In fact, when he saw her, and she smiled in acknowledgement she thought she saw his eyes spark back to life. The perception sent a small chill down her back.

"Sorry. Baltar wouldn't let me away."

Laura maintained eye contact with him. Something in his tone made her think he was lying.

"Have you had dinner? We saved you some." Ellen stood up and went to get the plate of leftovers out of the fridge. Saul pulled out the chair to his left and gestured for Bill to sit. Laura finally managed to tear her eyes away from him. She was feeling uncomfortable. Maybe she shouldn't have come.

"I'm glad you're here, Laura. It will be good for you to sit in on our meeting," Bill explained. The flush she felt come to her cheeks was only brought on by the fact Bill all but read her mind. She hoped no one had noticed.

"Is it hot in here Laura? You like a little pink." Ellen casually asked the question as she went to open the window flaps.

"How goes it on Galactica?" Laura immediately asked, hoping to divert attention from Ellen's observation.

"Skeleton crew is working hard to maintain all system functions. Between the two ships, our resources are stretched pretty thin. It's hard for any of us still left to get away," Bill said and then turned to Tigh, "but there really is no point in having everyone waste away up there. Especially if the cylons don't come back."

Laura sort of faded off into her own thoughts as Bill spoke. She was still drinking him in, and she suddenly became aware of how hard it was going to be for her to focus on a serious meeting tonight.

"If the cylons come back, you know I'll be at your side in a heartbeat, Bill." It was apparent to Laura that Tigh meant every word he said.

"I know."

Ellen placed the plate of food in front of Bill and took a seat next to Laura on the opposite side of the table.

"Ellen, this is fleet business. Go find something to do," Saul ordered.

As Laura expected, Ellen's mouth dropped in false shock. She laughed heartily and put her hands on the table.

"Oh, come on. Why don't you forget your silly meeting? We all know the real reason Bill came down here was to see Laura."

Laura let her head drop as she examined the napkin still resting on her lap and heard Bill choke on the food. Only when Ellen spoke again did she look up.

"It must be hot in here…Bill, now your turning all kinds of colors." As if to make an awkward situation even more so, Ellen let on great burst of laughter out.

"That's enough," Tigh growled, "We have important fleet business to discuss."

"Screw your frakking meeting! It's a lovely night out. Bill you should take Laura for a walk."

Laura was about to say something to defuse the argument that was gaining momentum, but she could not get a word in.

"He doesn't want to go for a walk. He wants to talk to me—"

"Get off it Saul. You're not even the XO anymore, and Laura isn't the president. How often does Bill get the chance to play hooky?" Ellen put her hand on Laura's arm. "Why don't you go enjoy yourselves?"

"Why don't _you_ leave?" Tigh asked his wife. She sent him a scowl and then, as if some sudden disabling stroke befell them, the arguing couple became completely silent. Tigh looked at Laura, and Ellen watched Bill.

"Actually, there are some political issues regarding Baltar's decision making I would like to discuss with you," Bill said, looking straight at Laura with a completely serious face.

She still was not quite sure whether or not to play along, because underneath it all Laura desperately wanted to be alone with Bill, if for nothing but the pleasure of his company. Whether Bill felt the same way or whether he really did want to discuss politics, she couldn't be sure. She was keen to find out.

"Alright, but we will be back in time for you and Colonel Tigh to—"

"Oh, for frak sakes, Laura, call him Saul!" Ellen scolded.

Bill took a last quick bite of his food and stood up.

"Shall we?" He smiled ever so slightly. Laura stood up, and tried not to laugh at the look of disbelief and horror on Saul's face. She wondered if he would read anything into their sudden departure, but if he didn't Ellen would make sure to change his mind.

At the present moment, as Laura softly latched onto Bill's elbow she could have cared less what anyone in the world thought. When they stepped outside Laura was surprised by the slightest warm breeze that caressed her face. The sun was completely out of sight now, but there was still enough light to make out the shapes of house and trees.

They walked in silence for a long time, until they passed out of the sight of people and tents and civilization. There was a trail at the edge of the woods that lead to a little clearing that Laura often visited, and in there silent wanderings she felt drawn to it. Bill went along at a slow pace, perhaps savoring the experience. Laura sighed inwardly. She loved this moment; loved it so much she never wanted it to end, just like a good book.

"I'm reading a book you might like…" She surprised herself by breaking the silence. The start of a conversation did not change anything about the steady pace Bill maintained down the trail.

"Mystery?"

"Yes."

His one word answer made her wonder if he did not want to have a conversation, so she decided to remain quiet unless he started to speak first. There relationship had never been one of many words anyway.

"Baltar wants to focus our resources on building houses for the winter, instead of organizing the agricultural engineering program."

A little of the elation Laura felt early was siphoned off by his words. He really did want to talk business…not that she minded, but, it was a little disappointing.

"I know. Dr. Keller came to see me. She wanted me to convince you to take her side."

"She has spunk."

Laura hesitated a little in her step and by the time she was back in pace with Bill he stopped.

"Something wrong?"

"No," Laura smiled, and with her hand on Bill's elbow urged him to continue walking. "It's just…I knew Dr. Keller a long time ago, on Caprica. I thought she had spunk then too."

Bill nodded and picked up the stroll again.

"I thought maybe you had just realized Ellen Tigh thinks she's your friend."

Laura laughed out loud and Bill's observation.

"Ellen Tigh, Ellen Tigh…what can I say about Ellen Tigh?"

This time Bill laughed and they both left the subject at that. Laura did wonder if Bill saw how desperately lonely she was, to befriend one such as Ellen.

They were nearing the end of the trail, and worries of the day started to catch up with Laura. The trance she was in had been broken, and now she just wanted to get back. At the end of the trail, Bill stepped away from Laura walked into the clearing surrounded by trees. He looked up at the stars.

"This reminds me of the Tomb of Athena."

Laura hugged herself, trying to fight off the slight chill she could begin to feel sinking into the night air. She kicked a dirt clod with her shoe.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are."

Laura swallowed hard before she had the courage to look up. Bill had removed his eyes from the heavens and was staring directly at her from across the clearing. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled.

"Thank you."

"We should probably get back, before Saul has a coronary."

Laura nodded and started back down the path with her hands still folded under her arms. She wished she would have grabbed a jacket, but she did not know they would be gone so long. Bill caught up with her and fell into step at her side.

"Are your hands cold?" He asked. The tone of his voice was so odd she looked over at him through the darkness. She could see his eyes glistening and a flash of his white teeth.

"Yes, actually," she replied rather slowly, trying to figure out just what he was up to. He nodded once.

A few seconds later, as causally as if he had done so a hundred times before, he reached across the space separating them and slid his hand down her arm until he caught her hand in his. Suppressing her smile was impossible. The walk back was spent in silence. Bill held her hand until they reached the first row of tents.

Right before they reached the Tigh's home, Bill stopped and, following his actions Laura turned to face him anxiously.

"My next shore leave isn't for another three months." Bill clasped his hands in front of him and Laura smiled faintly.

"I'm fully confident Ellen will keep me apprised of the day and time." Teasing Bill was one of Laura's favorite things to do. He always took it so well, and she loved lifting the burden she no longer shared with him in any way she could.

"I never thought I would be indebted to Ellen for anything."

The grinned together and entered the tent. Ellen was draped across Tigh's lap and he was kissing her neck. Laura fought the embarrassment threatening to over take her at bursting in on such a private moment. Ellen, of course, was un-phased and immediately jumped up with large eyes.

"I don't believe it! You actually came back! I told Saul not to expect you back tonight. I thought for sure you'd find 'other_'_ things to discuss back at Laura's." She emphasized the double meaning with a sly wink at Bill.

"Ellen," Tigh scolded as he stood up, "Not everyone thinks about frakking all the time like you do."

"That's a shame," Ellen laughed, but for the first time Laura noticed how uncomfortable she seemed with the three of them glaring at her. With her head held high she tried to save some of her dignity.

"Fine. I guess I'll go find something else to do…"

"Don't bother. My Raptor leaves in ten minutes, and I need to get back. Saul, I will call you later this week to finish our meeting."

With surprising briskness Bill exchanged a brief glance with Laura and Ellen and then he was gone. The pain of his abrupt leaving, and the separation she would have to endure for another three months left her as cold as if she had jumped naked into a lake of ice water.

"You're hopeless," Ellen told Laura. The former president ignored her and watched the former XO duck his head. She wondered what he was thinking about the situation.

"Thank you both for dinner. I should be getting home. Goodnight."

Aside from the ground breaking, Laura knew this was the best night she had spent on New Caprica. As she walked home she assured herself that if she could go three months without seeing him before, she could do it again.


	3. Chapter 3

Despite the drizzling rain tapping softly on the roof of green fabric, the breeze blowing just outside Laura's tent was pleasa

Mundane chaos. Those two words described perfectly what life on Galactica had become for Admiral William Adama. Three weeks had passed since his last visit planet side, but for Bill time between then and now felt as long as the universe was big. Funny how Bill always loved being aboard Galactica, how he fought to get back into the military because it was what made him happy. Now he wanted nothing more than too…

"Admiral," Helo addressed him from across the console in the CIC. Adama's arrival indicated that Helo's shift had ended. Usually the new XO gave Adama a nod, or politely addressed him as he headed for the exit. Today was different, and Bill welcomed the change.

"Request permission to meet with you after your shift." Helo stood rigidly at attention, but his left foot twitched ever so slightly. Adama lifted an eyebrow.

"Meet me in my quarters."

Helo nodded and exited. At least wondering what the young officer had to say kept Bill's mind from going completely numb as he stood around the command center trying to sort out a million average problems. Heat pump failures, computer system glitches, manpower shortages, and supply requests from the planet were becoming routine now.

By the time the Admiral's watch ended and he was back in his quarters he had nearly forgotten about his promised meeting with Helo. While he waited for the XO to show up, he grabbed at a looming stack of paper work. After only a few pages of signing and reading he took of his glasses and rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes. The sound of the hatch opening made him more alert and he watched with curiosity as Helo and Sharon Valerii stepped inside.

"What can I do for you?" Adama questioned, and was quick enough to pick up on the sideways glance Sharon gave to Helo.

"Admiral, Sharon has agreed to marry me." With the words, both of them started to grin like love-sick fools. The sight almost made Bill sick.

"Congratulations," he managed to say with genuine emotion. He might as well be happy for them, even if he couldn't—he decided not to finish that line of thought.

"We would be honored if you would perform the ceremony, sir," Sharon said.

"Of course I will."

Adama stood up and rounded the desk to shake both of their hands and offer them his best wishes.

"Have you set a date yet?" Adama questioned. The two of them exchanged another giddy stare.

"The anniversary of the first day we met," Helo replied. Adama nodded and smiled, but he was so board and tired he was only half listening.

"The 16th of October."

Adama nodded and looked back over his shoulder at the calendar on the wall. His heart sunk like a rock to the bottom of a lake. The 16th of October was right in the middle of his precious shore leave. The 16th was the only day he would have a chance to look around New Caprica and see if he could find anything worth bring back, be it memories or artifacts.

"Is there a problem?" Helo voice was full of worry. Adama knew if he asked his officers to change the day they would willingly oblige him, but he felt asking would be selfish. Besides, their wedding day was far more important than his vacation time. After all, if they were lucky, they would only do it once; there would be other shore leaves.

"No not at all. I've just got a lot of paper work to do." The statement was true enough, but the real reason for saying it was that Bill wanted some time to be by himself and sulk.

"Thank you, Admiral. This means a lot to us," Sharon said. The simple look of gratitude and loyalty in her eyes made him forget for a moment that she was a cylon.

"It's my pleasure." Adama faintly smiled and a happy soon to be Karl and Sharon Agathon exited through the gray metal hatch.

Bill sat back down and tired to focus on his paper work. He was exhausted, depressed, and the one thing he had looked forward too was only a quickly fading memory. Rational thinking was beyond him, and when the image of Laura at the groundbreaking ceremony flashed in his mind he reached for the phone.

Admiral Adama was an intelligent man. Anyone who talked to him for less than five minutes could derive such a fact. Like most people, however, Bill Adama was subject to little lapses in coherent thinking.

"Admiral Adama?" Bill heard Dee's voice on the other end. Since resources where limited Dee volunteered to coordinate voice traffic for both Battlestar's while also maintaining her position of XO of Pegasus.

"I need a secure line to the surface."

"Yes, sir, but I'm afraid I can only route you the government operators. President Baltar," Dee spat his name like it was a rotton candy in her mouth, "has ordered all secure lines be directed through his office."

"Fine." Adama replied. A tiny part of Bill's mind told him he should have hung up before the phone call went any further. Instead of listening to his better judgment, he listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before a familiar voice picked up.

"Admiral Adama, what can I do for you?" former Lt. Gaeta asked.

"I need to speak with someone on the surface," Bill replied as he stacked some of his daily logs to the corner of his desk.

"Let me know who and I will go find them," Gaeta said, sounding as distracted as Bill.

"Laura Roslin." Bill's simple answer was also known as a lapse in coherent thinking.

"You need a secure line to talk to Laura Roslin?"

"…"

Bill knew then he had made a mistake and his hesitation and answering only made matters worse.

"Yes. Why not?" He finally managed to say, hoping his voice sounded more confident then he felt.

"Uh…sir…Didn't you know…because of limited resources Baltar wants secure phone conversations to be limited to selected personnel only. The former president isn't one of them, but if you want to talk to her over a general line I would be happy to—"

"No, thank you. Never mind." Bill hung up the phone before Gaeta could say anymore, but he knew the damage had already been done. Not only was Bill irritated at not getting to talk to Laura, he was furious that Baltar managed to find yet another way to cage him off from the people on the surface.

The whole thing was absurd. The Admiral did not want a secure line in order to conspire with Roslin against Dr. Weasel; Bill simply wanted to explain to Laura why he would not be able to visit as he promised. So sue him from wanting a secure line. He didn't want to air his personal business for the whole fleet to know. The sinking feeling still growing in his gut told him he just had.

--

The pounding of Laura's feet on the ground through the early morning mist helped her to keep her mind off her problems. Somehow, even though she was no longer the president, her problems seemed just as troublesome, if not as significant. Back on Caprica, once she assumed the role of Secretary of Education she had been too busy with 'problems' to continue taking her morning jog. On Colonial One there had not been enough room, and now, whatever hardships New Caprica brought, she found solace in being able to jog through the trees in the mornings.

She rounded a corner, and her focus wobbled for a brief second, letting one of the problems invade her thoughts. Three weeks had passed and neither of them had kept their end of the bargin. Laura only briefly mentioned Dr. Keller's plight to the Admiral in passing, and since then Trista had not been by to visit. Laura tried not to let herself be too disappointed, in her own lame attempt at fulfilling her promise, and in not seeing the accomplished engineer.

"Good morning, Laura," the parent of one of her students greeted and waved as Laura jogged by. Laura waved back and turned around another bend in the pathway. She could see the tops of the tents over the hill, and she knew her morning run was coming to an end. She hated the thought because it meant being alone with her thoughts all day. The students were out for the weekend, and Laura had already finished most of the grading she had to do. She thought maybe she would stop by to see Ellen…although she wondered if pouring a bucket of hot tar on her head would be less painful.

By the time she reached the row of tents leading up to her home she had slowed her pace to a gentle walk. The air was turning much colder, and it wouldn't be long before the bad weather would force her back inside. For now she inhaled the sent of pine and enjoyed the sight of people performing various activities to bring the market to life. Maybe later she would see if they were offering anything good for lunch.

Her breathing had returned to normal once she reached the front door of her tent. As she had a hundred times before she tossed open the fabric expecting to be greeted by the tranquil silence of her living space. She nearly jumped out of her grey sweater when the shrill squeak of Ellen's voiced hit her ears.

"Hi Laura."

"What?! Ellen…? Don't scare me like that." Laura put her hand on her chest to try and calm herself down. Ellen pranced out of the bedroom nonchalantly, with a pile of clothes in her hands. She was laughing.

"Sorry. You should have seen the look on your face. I just stopped by to borrow a few things. You don't mind." Ellen told Laura she didn't mind more than asking her.

The teacher had to take a few deep breaths to calm herself as often did when confronting a disorderly child in the classroom. This time, Ellen had gone too far. It was one thing to act like she owned the place while Laura was there, but snooping around when she knew Laura was out was unacceptable.

"Ellen—" Laura began firmly but was interrupted.

"I saw you wearing this the other day, and I said to myself 'Ellen, you need a good sturdy sweater to get you through the winter.' I know you have a million just like it, and these pants are much too small for you, so I snatched them as well." Ellen prattled on, and held up each item to examine if as if she was picking out clothes at the mall. So completely exasperated by all of it, Laura could only shake her head slowly from side to side at stare. It was like she had front row seats at the circus, and as much as she didn't want to stare, she couldn't turn away from the bearded lady.

"I don't have enough socks, so I browed a pair of those too."

Then, holding it up like it was the Championship Pyramid Cup, Laura saw it. Her most prized article of clothing. Underwear was hard to come by, and the lacy dark maroon bra was in exquisite shape. If there was a chance in hell any man would ever see her in her underwear again, she prayed to the Lords of Kobol she would be wearing that brazier. The only brazier left in humanity worth the material it was made from, and Laura was willing to fight for it.

"Ellen, you can't have that." Laura briefly wondered if anyone had ever uttered those words to Ellen before.

"Oh, what, really?" Out poked Ellen's bottom lip. Laura had the sudden urge to rip it from her face.

"That is the only decent bra I own." Laura stood firmly in front of Ellen, blocking any quick escape her unwanted visitor might attempt. Ellen did look over Laura's shoulder toward the door. A vicious smile absorbed the pouting lip.

"I don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this. I mean, it's not like anyone but you could ever appreciate it. With me, on the other hand, it will live a full, rich life."

"I just bet it would." Laura cooed and she reached for the bra. Ellen lunged back and held onto the strap, dangling it over her head. The action seemed to tickle Ellen's funny bone, but Laura was ashamed at how much they were acting like snotty junior high cheerleaders.

"I'm not going to fight you for it. If you want it that badly, then take it, but do me a favor," Laura began smooth, and then raised her voice, "…get out of my frakking tent!"

Laura was pleased to see that Ellen could take a very blatant, obvious hint. She started toward the door like a dog with its tail between its legs.

"And Ellen," Laura continued, causing the wife of Colonel Tigh to stop at the tent flap and turn to face her. "Have a little respect for my privacy."

Ellen clutched the clothes to her chest and her mouth pulled at one side. There was a glint of sadness in her expression.

"Okay. I don't have many friends. I can't afford to lose the ones I do have."

Perhaps Ellen meant the words as a compliment, but Laura was still furious about the unexpected guest and a loss of her best undergarment to pay much heed. After all, Laura was not to blame for the fact no one could stand Ellen Tigh. With a disgruntled sigh, she watched Ellen and her 'on-sale-for-15.99' brazier disappear into the dusty streets of New Caprica. Of course, Ellen was right, no one but her would have ever appreciated the article of clothing…

"Don't even think about him." Laura firmly scolded herself out loud. Glasses and silverware purposefully clinked and banged as she prepared her morning tea with as much noise as possible. Laura relished the distraction, anything to keep her mind of certain things…and people.


	4. Chapter 4

Admiral Adama found paying attention in political meetings more and more difficult with the passage of time. Today, he was supposed to be discussing the food situation with a few delegates from the Quorum and Dr. Keller. Unable to bring himself to sit through another meeting, he suggested Dr. Keller meet him in his quarters. Adama knew the bravery of the Quorum members did not extend far, and he guessed correctly that they would delicately opt out of such a meeting. The relief Adama felt in not having to sit through a menial squabble that accomplished nothing alleviated any guilt he might have felt in ditched the Quorum delegates.

As his CIC shift came to a close, he actually found himself looking forward to the meeting with Dr. Keller. He had known Laura Roslin long enough to know when she was hiding something. Her reaction to his appraisal of Dr. Keller had not gone unnoticed, and he was eager to find out more about the engineer turned politician.

When he rounded the final corridor leading to his quarters he found the hatch open and Dr. Keller scanning his book shelf inside. He stepped over the threshold and nodded to the marine to close the hatch.

"Dr. Keller, thank you for meeting me here. With my schedule it's hard to find the time for these types of meetings."

Keller turned sharply, and nodded with her hands firmly clasped behind her back. Her rigid stance almost made Adama feel uncomfortable in his own living space.

"Of course."

There were a few seconds of awkward silence.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Adama asked. Dr. Keller eyed him as if he had just grown an extra head.

"No. Thank you." She remained unmoving, and Adama wondered if it was humanly possible for someone to stand so still. Bill rounded his desk.

"Have a seat," he offered, gesturing to the chair on the other side. When Dr. Keller finally broke from her statue like stance Adama felt himself relax a little more. Maybe inviting her to his quarters was not such a good idea.

"You have an impressive collection of books," she said as she pulled a stack of crisp papers from her black brief case.

"I usually try to keep my favorite books close by."

Dr. Keller's head jerked up and she narrowed her eyes at him. He found the action quite strange.

"You and Laura have similar tastes. She loves mysteries, and classics like Searider Falcon. I noticed a lot of those types of books on your shelf."

With the way Keller watched him, he felt like he had to chose his next words carefully, though he wasn't sure why.

"Yes." Bill decided not to elaborate. With precise calculated movements, Dr. Keller handed him the stack of her crisp papers.

"This is our proposal for the food growth and processing planet. I know we will not obtain approval from President Baltar for another six months or so, but I want you to be aware of the resources we will require. Also, you should be aware you need to take more precautionary measures to ensure our current food supply does not succumb to contamination. I've included a list of suggestions with the proposal."

With the professional turn the conversation took, Bill found it hard to believe a moment ago they were talking about something as personal as the reading tastes of Laura Roslin. Adama flipped to the back page and read the list.

"A lot of these things will be difficult to implement with the manpower shortage and cooling system glitches we've been having."

"I know, which is exactly why I wanted Baltar's support to begin full scale growing on the planet. Since that did not happen we'll have to make do with what we have. I've already set up a small facility on the planet. Our first round of carrots should be ready any day now."

With the mention of a fresh carrot, Bill's mouth suddenly began to water. He had forgotten what fresh fruit and vegetables tasted like. Like most of the crew, he resigned himself to bad tasting frozen dinners for the rest of his life.

"Dr. Roslin mentioned you wanted to focus on food growth rather than habitat construction. With the harshness of New Caprican winters, I'm sorry to say I agree with Baltar. Fresh carrots sound amazingly good, and I don't even like carrots."

Dr. Keller seemed stunned. Bill watched her reaction, and saw a tiny crack in her outward armor. This interaction reminded him a great deal of his first experiences with Laura. Uncomfortable, awkward, groping in the dark for some common ground.

"She…she mentioned that to you?" Keller voice, which had been professional and cold before, was now unsure and human.

"Yes. Why?" Bill curiosity was really peaked now. Keller's focus was on the floor, and Adama could tell she was mulling something over in her mind. When she brought her eyes up to meet his they were sharp again and he saw a determination there he had seem many times before in the eyes of Laura. In fact, he was beginning to wonder…

"Are you doing her?" The question was so out of the wild yonder; Bill had to blink a few times to regain his senses.

"What?"

Keller lifted her chin very smugly and smiled a very subtle and very wicked smile.

"You know, doing the nasty, sleeping with her, getting it on, rolling in the hay, shagging like bunnies, frakkin—"

Bill quickly got his sense back to stop her from continuing with her line of embarrassing insinuations.

"Of course not." His tone was harsh, and Dr. Keller seemed a little offended. Bill was glad. She had no right to ask him such a question.

"And, what about when she was president?"

Bill sat up straighter in his chair, coming to his full height.

"Dr. Keller if you insist on continuing with this line of questioning I am going to have to ask you to leave." He felt his teeth clench. Keller nodded, apparently over her momentary offense of his raised voice.

"You know I will take your avoidance of the subject as confirmation of your guilt."

Bill could feel his face turning red with the anger churning inside. He stood quickly and walked around his desk. Dr. Keller remained sitting, and he towered over her, getting in her face with an intensity he usually reserved for disciplining Starbuck.

"Listen to me," he growled, "I have the utmost respect for Laura Roslin and the office of the president. Not that it's any of your business, but there has only ever been a camaraderie and professional working relationship between us."

Dr. Keller met his gaze and only when she shrugged did he back off.

"For what it's worth, I believe you." Her simple dismissal of his commanding presence really got on his last nerve.

"Who are you? How do you know Laura?"

Dr. Keller started putting the papers neatly back into her brief case. Perhaps Bill's temper tantrum had intimidated her more than she let on.

"If you really share the camaraderie you claim, then she would have told you, wouldn't she?" Dr. Keller stood up and walked toward the hatch without being dismissed.

Adama hated civilians who acted like they were above the rules. What Keller said about Roslin not telling him everything was true and that bothered Adama. Trista Keller was somehow related to Laura Roslin, Bill was sure of it. Both women stubborn, insubordinate, cunning and intensely private but that did not ease his mind.


End file.
